


if only you walk long enough

by achilleees



Series: ridic au fics the discord asked for [1]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pacific Rim Fusion, Angst with a Happy Ending, Grief/Mourning, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-08-08 12:03:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16429046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/achilleees/pseuds/achilleees
Summary: “Fuck, man, it’s good to see you awake,” Holster said, sitting cross-legged on the other empty bed playing cards with Ransom. “Take your time, don’t rush, let it come back.”“Water,” Jack said, squinting, and why was-Kent. Kent was gone. Knifehead had ripped Kent out of the con-pod and then Jack had been alone, and - “Kent?” he said.aka, if you try to tell me jack and kent aren't drift-compatiable, you lyin'.





	if only you walk long enough

**Author's Note:**

> follows from the beginning of the movie. kent is yancy. you know what that means.
> 
> i blame the jack/parse discord chat for this. i was never going to post it, but they reminded me it existed so WHY NOT, BURN THE WORLD, WHO CARES. also tbh there are more unposted fics than this coming, equally au and ridiculous, so get pumped.
> 
> title from alice in wonderland.

Jack wasn’t cold anymore. That was odd.

He opened his eyes and groaned at the lights, and the sounds - beeps, and boops, and monitors, and… “Uh,” he said. His mouth felt like it was full of cotton and he had gargled some sand.

“Jack!” Bitty said, and looked like he was resisting the urge to climb onto the bed and tackle him in a hug. He grabbed onto the bed rails and gripped tight.

“Jack!” Shitty and Lardo said at the same time, rising from their seats across the room and rushing over.

“How do you feel?” Bitty said.

“Fuck, man, it’s good to see you awake,” Holster said, sitting cross-legged on the other empty bed playing cards with Ransom. “Take your time, don’t rush, let it come back.”

“Water,” Jack said, squinting, and why was-

Kent. Kent was gone. Knifehead had ripped Kent out of the con-pod and then Jack had been alone, and- “Kent?” he said, but he didn’t want to hear it.

Still. He needed to.

The group was silent.

“Jack,” Bitty eventually said, very tenderly.

Jack squeezed his eyes shut, but nothing could keep the tears at bay.

 

The door creaked open, spilling light into the room. “Jack?” someone said quietly.

Jack didn’t move.

“You should eat something.”

Must have been Bitty.

Jack rolled over, taking care not to squash Kit. He was pretty sure it wasn’t his imagination that she was even more lump-like than usual, listless and uninterested in eating.

Jack could relate.

“Not hungry,” he said.

“Jack, it’s been days,” Bitty said. “You don’t have to eat much, but you need to eat _something_. This isn’t -“

“Healthy?” Jack said with a wry smile. “Yeah.”

“Safe,” Bitty said.

“I’ll eat some protein bars,” Jack said.

“Okay,” Bitty said.

Jack rubbed Kit’s little face.

“Now,” Bitty said.

Jack made a face.

“ _Now_ ,” Bitty said.

“Fine,” Jack said, scowling darkly. He threw off the covers and stood up.

When he looked up at Bitty, he found tears welling up in those big eyes.

“We’re grieving too,” Bitty said. “It’s not the same. I know it’s not the same. But Jack, please don’t make me feel guilty for not missing him enough. I do.” To Jack’s horror, Bitty’s face crumpled and he started to cry, really cry. “I miss him.”

“I know,” Jack said, and he sat on the edge of the bed, putting his head in his hands. “I… desole, Bitty. I know you do.”

Bitty touched his shoulder gently.

Jack choked on his own misery.

 

Jack opened the door before Shitty’s fist could make contact.

“Oh,” Shitty said, surprised. He looked down at Jack’s suit. “You’re coming, then?”

Jack nodded.

“I told the Marshal this was too soon,” Shitty said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“I know, I heard you arguing in the hall,” Jack said hoarsely.

Shitty scowled.

“It’s been a month.” Jack sighed. “If he were… It’s been a month.”

“It’s fucking messed up,” Shitty said. “Just for the sake of PR, fuck.” They started to walk. “You gonna be okay, bro?”

Jack shrugged. “S’just an empty coffin, right?” He had been mourning Kent for a month. He didn’t see a reason this would be any worse.

 

It was worse. It was so much worse.

“I’m sorry, we should have warned you,” Lardo whispered, gripping Jack’s hand and squeezing it. “Jack, you don’t have to be here for this.”

Jack trembled.

The coffin wasn’t empty - it was packed to the brim. And for once, it wasn’t meaningless PR bullshit. It was clear their friends had a hand in its contents.

There were his skates, his hockey stick, his Perreault jersey… His sunglasses and flip flops and the Wet Blanket snapback he's made Nursey design mocking Jack, a stuffed cat, a handful of cinnamon candies, a handful of condoms… The helmet from his drivesuit, washed up on shore. His Vulcan Specter bomber jacket.

And pictures. So many pictures. He was always smirking, always laughing, bright-eyed and amused and so goddamn full of life. But oh, when he was looking at Jack, his smile was so soft, his gaze so tender.

Jack staggered back, a weight on his chest like no anxiety he had felt before. He couldn’t breathe through it, the Ativan that he had taken before coming had no effect on it. This was a weight that could crush him, if he let it.

He couldn’t see a way to prevent it.

“Jack,” Holster said, coming up beside Jack, pressing a stabilizing shoulder against his. Silent tears coursed down his face. “You okay?”

Jack shook his head.

Holster sighed. “I know, buddy,” he said. He wrapped his arm around Jack.

 

Jack lay on his stomach and watched Kit pace restlessly along the windowsill, unable to find a good place to settle.

“What?” he said.

They went quiet.

“I can hear you whispering,” Jack said crossly.

“It’s nothing, really,” Lardo said. “We just haven’t seen you shirtless since - that’s all.”

Jack looked down at his shoulder, the neat parallel lines of raised red scarring running down his arm. “Yeah,” he said. “Well.”

“Jack,” Bitty said softly.

“Merde,” Jack said. “Spare me the group therapy session.” He closed his eyes.

“We’re not patronizing you,” Bitty said. “It’s just… We’re all leaving tomorrow and we want to make sure…”

“I’m not going to kill myself,” Jack said. “If that’s what -”

“That’s not what -”

“Jack,” Holster said. “We’re worried. You can’t blame us for that.”

Jack scowled.

“You can take as long as you need to grieve,” Ransom said. “That’s not the problem.”

“If any of you say -”

“He wouldn’t want -”

“Crisse,” Jack muttered, rolling away and curling up on his side, even though the metal floor was death on his hipbones.

“I’m serious!” Lardo said. “He wouldn’t want to see you break like this.”

“It’s a cliché, but it’s true,” Ransom said. “You would want him to hold it together for you, right? If the situation were reversed.”

Jack ground his teeth.

“Jack,” Shitty said.

“You want to talk clichés?” Jack snapped, sitting up, shoulders hunched. “I can speak in clichés too. Kent was my better half. He made me a better person. He was my sun, moon, and stars, my best friend, my partner, my co-pilot, my _everything_. And now that he’s gone, I can’t remember what it means to feel whole. Without his smile, I can’t…” His chest lurched with the effort to breathe. “I’m a wet blanket. Kent is - sunshine.”

Bitty was crying. Holster was crying.

Jack was crying.

“And yeah, he was obnoxious, and full of himself, but he was _nice_ , too. Bright, and happy, and he didn’t even know what it meant to feel anxious until he drifted with me. What is that? How do you even…” Jack swiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. “Anyway. I miss him so much it hurts, and it’s not getting better. There’s your fucking cliché.”

Silence settled. Jack couldn’t bring himself to look up, cheeks burning with shame.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

Lardo gave a furious huff. “Don’t you dare apologize,” she said hotly. “Don’t you - Oh, Jack.” She wrapped herself around him, squeezing tight.

Jack bowed his head.

“Do you remember…” Ransom said, “that time he smuggled Kit into tactics class in his backpack and pretended to have a coughing fit to cover up every time she made a noise?”

Jack smiled a little.

“He would get so jealous,” Holster said. “He paid me and Rans to head off any girls who tried to talk to Jack when we were out at bars together.”

Jack looked up. “Really?”

“No matter how many times we told him Jack was 100% his,” Ransom said, laughing.

“He was such an open book,” Shitty said. “Had to come get high with me before broaching any kind of sensitive conversation with Jack, but as soon as he did, he was the cuddliest motherfucker on the planet and he could talk about his feelings with Jack for hours.”

“Really?” Bitty said. “He was always so open with me. He used to come ask for advice while I was baking. Would eat half the dough or pie filling while my back was turned.”

“He was so self-absorbed,” Lardo said, laughing and cuddling up against Jack’s back. “But… loyal. Really, stupidly loyal.”

“Codependent, I’d say,” Ransom said with a snort. “Would get so pissy if he had to be away from Jack for more than… oh, 24 hours.”

Jack smiled.

“We miss him too,” Lardo said to him. “You know we do.”

“I know,” Jack muttered. “But I miss him more.”

She kissed his hair. “Oh, no one doubts that, sweetheart.”

Jack took her hand and squeezed it.

 

Jack skated in looping circles around the backyard rink, idly tapping the puck in front of him, maintaining control the whole while. He passed it ahead and then caught up to it, carrying it with him another few meters before doing it again.

“Jack!” his mother called from the house. “Could you come here?”

“Oui, maman,” Jack said, and skated back over, unable to resist taking a shot to the net while he was on the move. He missed, and stuttered for a moment, considering going to scoop it up and try again.

“Jack!” she said.

“Coming.” He sighed, dropping the stick onto the ice and making his way back to the house.

He capped the blades of his skates with their covers, pulled them off and slinging them over his shoulder as he entered. “Do you need somethi… Um, maman?”

She was staring at him, hands over her mouth, eyes wide and watery. “Oh, Jack,” she whispered.

“What’s wrong?” he said quickly. “Did something happen?”

“No, no,” she said, giving a wet laugh. “Nothing’s wrong. It’s - oh, Jack.” She mopped up her tears with a trembling smile. “In the kitchen.”

Jack shot her another worried look before making his way to the kitchen.

He dropped his skates with a loud thud.

“Hey, Zimms,” Kent said, adjusting his hat with his good hand, the one that wasn’t strapped down against his chest. His smirk held firm, but his eyes were wet. “Didja miss me?”

 

In one large step, Jack had crossed the room and caught his face between his hands. “Mon dieu, mon chéri, où avez-vous été, je vous tellement manqué, je suis désolé, je suis vraiment désolé, je vous ai manqué, je t'aime, je t'aime, je t'aime …”

“Cheating,” Kent said, gripping Jack’s collar and keeping him close so he couldn’t have drawn away if he had wanted to. He didn’t, fortunately. “S’cheating, Zimms - fuck, I’m so fucking sorry, I missed you, I lo-”

Jack kissed him messily, swallowing his words. “No, you should not be sorry,” he said. “You have nothing to be sorry for. Where have you been? What happened? Je t’aime, I love you. It’s not your fault. What took you so long?”

“Mixed messages,” Kent said, strangled, breathless. “Fishing boat scooped me up. Defibrillated me, brought me to a hospital. I was in a coma for three weeks, and then - I don’t want to say, like, amnesia, but I definitely wasn’t all there? But it all came back eventually, and…” He kissed Jack. “Had to come find you.”

Jack nuzzled his lips against Kent’s cheeks, his nose, his temple. “Does everyone know? Does the Marshal -?”

“Had to call him to figure out how to find you, didn’t I?” Kent said. “Figure he told the rest. They must have decided to keep it a secret to surprise you.” He looked up at Jack, eyes filling with tears again. “Babes, I’m sorry - I’m so sorry, I wouldn’t have-”

“Shush,” Jack said, tucking Kent’s face into his neck and kissing the top of his head. “You’re here now. You came back.”

“Of course I came back,” Kent said, muffled. “You stole my cat.”

Jack laughed a little.

Kent took a deep, shuddering breath. Then he pulled back. “Uh, hello, Ms. Zimmermann. Hi, Mr. Bob.”

Jack, to his embarrassment, realized that his mother and father had been in the room the whole time.

“Hi there, Kent,” Bob said. “Good to have you back.”

“You have no idea,” Kent and Jack said at the same time, with the exact same emphasis.

Jack had to kiss Kent right then, no matter how much he loved his grin.


End file.
